Chapter 680: The RDA's Response
Similar harassments occurred several times across the territory.
Although the Na'vi suffered a few casualties, they relied on their intimate familiarity with the terrain, rapid information relay among their ranks, and solid home defenses to successfully fend off these sporadic, probing attacks. The Predators failed to easily acquire Na'vi skulls as trophies, a stark contrast to Celtic's earlier success. The resilience and unity of this native species far exceeded the Young Bloods' estimates.
"Target One: Heavily defended, highly vigilant, possesses a collective consciousness early-warning mechanism. Difficulty in acquiring high-value trophies is significant." A preliminary assessment circulated through the Predators' internal network.
Consequently, more hunter eyes turned toward the alternative target—that sprawling facility built upon naked industrial might, reeking of raw energy and cold metal: the RDA base.
The RDA's Hell's Gate facility sat like a massive metallic scar branded onto Pandora's emerald skin. Towering walls, bristling automated turrets, rotating radar antennas, and the ceaseless roar of engines all boldly declared the power and invasiveness of human industrial civilization.
Inside the central command tower, Quaritch looked at the reports of sporadic anomalous energy activities and patrol encounters with unidentified cloaked units transmitted by orbital satellites and drones. There was no surprise on his face, only a freezing, unyielding will to fight.
"They are here," Quaritch said to the security department's technical director standing beside him. "Just as Dr. Ryo predicted. These alien bastards think we are soft targets."
"Our defense systems have been fully upgraded, Colonel," the technical director replied, bringing up the base's defense grid. The screen was dotted with green lights representing operational sensors and weapon platforms. "Based on the partial energy signature parameters provided by the Seekers, we have adjusted the sensitivity of our motion sensors and thermal imaging. While we cannot completely crack their cloaking technology, we can detect their tracks from a greater distance. The perimeter seismic sensors and acoustic capture arrays are also at maximum alert."
Quaritch nodded, his gaze razor-sharp. "Tell all patrols to maintain double formations and carry heavy firepower. If they encounter any unidentifiable targets, no warnings—open fire immediately. We are going to let these cowardly bastards know that this is not a hunting ground they can run wild in."
The orders were rapidly issued, and the atmosphere in the base grew palpably tenser. The footsteps of patrolling AMP suits pounded heavier against the concrete, and the soldiers' fingers never strayed far from their triggers.
The Predator Young Bloods quickly felt the stark difference between the RDA and the Na'vi. When they attempted to approach the base perimeter, their previously flawless optical camouflage began to destabilize within a certain range of the walls, and their bio-masks blared warnings that they were being swept by scanning beams. They were forced to choose their paths far more carefully, utilizing the treacherous terrain and dense vegetation for cover to inch closer.
A typical clash occurred one evening.
Two Young Bloods attempted to use the cover of darkness to infiltrate a sensor array node on the base's perimeter, seeking to extract technical data or sow chaos. Like phantoms, they slipped through the outer minefield and silently eliminated two RDA soldiers on duty in a concealed sentry post. Executing the kills cleanly, they claimed their skulls as prizes.
However, just as they prepared to tamper with the node equipment, piercing alarms shattered the night sky.
The base's searchlights instantly flared to life, sweeping across their position like blazing swords. Simultaneously, two nearby automated turrets rapidly pivoted, spitting out searing tongues of fire that wove a dense, inescapable barrage of lead.
"Compromised! Fall back!" One Young Blood growled low, his shoulder caster firing instantly to precisely obliterate one of the turrets.
But the fire from the second turret had already cut off their retreat. Bullets hammered against their armor, sparking violently in the dark. Although failing to immediately penetrate, the massive kinetic impact caused the aliens to stagger. Worse yet, an AMP suit patrolling the sector heard the alarm and charged over with heavy, thudding steps, its handheld thirty-millimeter chain gun already spinning up to a lethal whine.
The two Young Bloods attempted to split up and utilize their speed and cloaking to escape into the brush. One of them was slightly too slow. The chain gun's sweeping fire struck his leg, shattering the armor and spraying dark green blood, instantly stalling his movement.
At that exact moment, an even heavier, far more oppressive engine roar approached rapidly. A commander-model mech—visibly taller, more heavily armored, and boasting superior firepower than a standard AMP suit, Quaritch's personal mount—sprinted from the direction of the base gates.
"Trying to run?" Quaritch's freezing voice boomed through the mech's external speakers.
He piloted the mech into a vicious lateral slide, physically blocking the wounded Young Blood's primary escape route, while the multi-tube rocket pod on his right arm locked on instantly. Sensing the mortal peril, the wounded Young Blood roared and spun around, aiming his shoulder caster at the mech's cockpit for a final, desperate stand. A superheated plasma bolt shot out.
But Quaritch seemed to anticipate the move, deflecting the chassis by a nearly impossible, minute margin. The plasma bolt grazed the thick glass and armor, leaving a scorching, glowing scar. Simultaneously, the rocket pod erupted in flames as multiple high-explosive rockets screamed through the short distance.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The rockets blanketed the Young Blood's exact position, swallowing him entirely in a massive explosion. As the smoke and dust cleared, only a scorched crater remained, littered with scattered armor fragments and biological tissue.
Witnessing his companion's death, the second Young Blood did not linger. Using the window created by the attack on his comrade, he pushed his cloaking to maximum and vanished into the dark jungle.
Quaritch did not pursue. He piloted his suit toward the blast crater. Extending a massive mechanical arm, he retrieved a twisted fragment of shoulder armor bearing the Predator clan's insignia from the ruins.
"That is one," he announced over the comm channel, his voice carrying a trace of satisfied cruelty. "Clean this mess up. Analyze the wreckage; I want to know more of these bastards' weaknesses."
This successful defense and counterattack massively boosted the morale of the RDA soldiers. They had proven that in the face of a tight defensive grid and overwhelming firepower, these invisible hunters were not invincible.
However, the upper echelons of the base, including Quaritch himself, knew perfectly well that this was merely the beginning. The death of a comrade would only enrage the remaining hunters, drawing the ire of the mothership lurking in orbit above them.
The news rapidly reached the Trailblazer mobile base via encrypted channels. Ryo looked at the brief combat report and wreckage analysis of Quaritch's mech killing the Predator Young Blood on the screen, his expression remaining perfectly placid.
"The RDA has bared its fangs... very good," he murmured to himself. "Now, the pressure shifts back to the hunters. They will become more cautious, and much more... furious."